


Meet the New Neighbor!

by ARWitchyWoman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARWitchyWoman/pseuds/ARWitchyWoman
Summary: Felix Felicis to the rescue.





	Meet the New Neighbor!

**Author's Note:**

> This work was submitted for the 2019 LJ HP Get Lucky Community. It was based on the prompt: Hermione hopes that a small dose of Felix Felicis is enough to get Severus to agree to a date with her. When she goes to ask him, they somehow end up in bed. Not that Hermione doesn’t mind, but she can’t help but wonder if she took too much of the potion. Extra Suggestions: I’d love to see dirtytalk!Snape.  
> My gratitude to Toblass for beta help.   
> Not mine, I'm still poor.

A bead of sweat rolled down Hermione’s temple, tickling the fine hair on the side of her face and threatening to cradle in the corner of her eye. Knowing the sting that would come from the salt, Hermione thought _BUGGER SHITE!_ as she tried to lean and let gravity pull it away. One thing she wasn’t about to do was disturb the cadence of her stirring. The bottle of _Felix Felicis_ that Slughorn had baited the class with was going to be HERS.

_Forty-Five Minutes Later_

The look on her face betrayed the jealousy Hermione didn’t want seen when Professor Slughorn awarded that sparkly, golden treasure to her best friend. _Sure, if he had won if fair and square, I’d be happy. But that prat is treading on dangerous ground with that book_.

In the back of her mind, Hermione knew she should be happy for Harry, but her fear of his Potion’s manual and her irritation at losing the _Felix_ overwhelmed her normally cheerful disposition. _That’s OK_ , she thought. _One day I’ll make my own Liquid Luck. I’ll have my own private stock._

_Seven Years Later_

Ms. Hermione Granger waved her wand and spelled the dust away from each tome sitting in the display window at Flourish and Blotts. She loved her business. Four years after the war’s end, Balthasar Blott was ready to retire and Hermione was at the right place at the right time. With over three years interest on her Order of Merlin monetary award and a small loan from Harry, she bought the business outright.

George worked with her on developing FOREVER-INKED PrimoColor markers in a variety of hues and shades. Taking a clue from her Muggle childhood, Hermione also had George develop coloring books for every taste; one featured magical creatures, another magical plants, and yet one that illustrated dueling techniques. The books were spelled to vanish any color already applied by the markers if the owner chose, or even to change the patterns and positions of the illustrated characters. They were a big hit, and with a 65% markup over manufacturing costs, George and Hermione saw the Galleons roll in.

It was on this early Tuesday morning when Hermione was completing her dusting that she looked through the window across the street and spotted the back of a figure she hadn’t seen in years—one Severus Tobias Snape.

Snape was facing Mr. Mulpepper’s Apothecary, eying it while a Gringott’s goblin to his right ran a long-nailed finger down a parchment and was obviously uttering various facts and figures when appropriate. The Apothecary had sat empty for years.

During the Death Eater raid of ’96 many businesses sustained severe damage. It was rumoured that Old Man Mulpepper had ported his family off to Belfast, fearing if Ollivander had been captured, he could be next. After he abandoned England the building fell into foreclosure. Gringott’s didn’t care about upkeep, only turnover and the dilapidated storefront was an eyesore waiting for some TLC.

Hermione stood transfixed as the two conversed with each other.

Snape wore his traditional black with the exception of his trademark billowing robe. A woolen mandarin blazer had been tailored to hug his torso and slightly flare over his hips. She could barely make out the silhouette of buttons trailing from his wrists to his elbows as he gesticulated and pointed to the building. Slim fitting woolen trousers were as tight as a London hipster’s and she could clearly see buttons tracing from his ankles half-up his calves. Black leather boots with a slight heel at the bottom, flowing black hair past his shoulders at the top, and she could imagine two dozen more buttons down the front in various places.

It had been difficult not to cross paths with Snape since the war’s end. Wizarding England was a small world, after all. Hermione’s school girl aversion to him had grown to respect since, and respect had grown into curiosity, which in turn grew to infatuation. For some two to three years now his had been the face she would imagine as she pleasured herself on lonely nights.

_One Week Later_

After six days of watching activity across the Alley, Hermione decided to make her initial move. There wasn’t much to be lost, but in her mind, oh so much to be gained.

Each morning Hermione made a point of spending a little extra time outside of the bookstore sweeping the walk, tending to the flowers adorning her entrance and making certain the windows were sparkling clear. Around midday she would step back outside and ponder the window display of tomes, always keeping her back to the street to convey a sense of focus. Truthfully, the only thing she was focused on was her neighbor proprietor who she knew was setting up his apothecary across the way.

A fair amount of planning had been employed—only the most form-fitting robes for this week! Waking early also gave her an opportunity to coif her tempestuous hair into delicate curls that fell freely past her shoulders. She wanted to look as delectable from the rear as possible for show.

Day two found her catching a glance at the taciturn potioneer as he made his way into his new shop. Snape appeared to have taken care not to make eye contact, but Hermione felt otherwise. She just knew he was aware of her presence.

By Friday a shingle hung over his entrance. The very simplistic store name “Potions, Etc.” said it all. There was no one like Snape when it came to getting to the point. A small sign was pasted to the door “Opening Monday.”

_Three Days Later_

Hermione was out of her flat before the birds were singing Monday morning.

Her weekend had been busy, oh so busy, planning and preparing for this morning. She was determined to be waiting and watching—the moment Snape opened for business, she would make her way across the street with a basket full of shop-warming blueberry scones.

Sunday was spent deciding what to wear. After donning each of the robes in her wardrobe, she felt certain that Crookshanks had given his approval to the simplest one she owned. Long sleeves hugged her arms, a scooped neck accented her clavicle, dipping just low enough to show the smallest shade of cleavage and a skirt that flared on sharp turns. Perfect in its form, Hermione transfigured it further from a dull brown hue to a satisfying deep shade of navy. The dark robe contrasted with her pale skin, and Crooks didn’t complain.

Though she normally wore flats, Hermione felt that this was a day for leather laced boots. Their conservative two-inch heels did the trick. Walking in the boots gave her a more graceful gait.

The _pièce de résistance_? Tucked away deep in her old school trunk were two vials of _Felix Felicis_.

Hermione had never gotten over her resentment of losing that prize so many years ago. She would have brewed it herself if she had the ingredients, but it wasn’t until the war ended before there was any opportunity to do so. Voldemort hadn’t been dead for one day before she decided brewing that _Felix_ would be her top priority. Who knew when one would need it?  
Hidden where no one would find it were two vials—one had been painstaking marked “Emergency Only!” while the other was two-thirds full.

A small swig had been imbibed the morning of her closing the purchase of Flourish and Blotts, just to be certain everything went right. She grabbed the used bottle and popped the cork. Her intention was to only take one small sip but as the liquid coated her tongue with its warm essence, something inside told her to ‘go for it.’ The rest of the contents went down sweeter than a shot of Old Ogden’s and Hermione felt more than ready to meet her new neighbor.

Hermione grabbed a basket of store bought scones and headed to the door.

_7:55am_

Almost every shop on the alley opened for business at 10:00am, but Hermione wanted to be ready and waiting inside the bookstore to pounce once she spotted Snape heading to his apothecary. She was somewhat concerned that he had not shown up yet. _“It’s opening day… one would think he’d be early to make certain all was set.”_

Something deep inside told her he was already there and she had missed spotting him. She picked up her basket and started out the door. As soon as she opened it, her eyes were filled by his black presence, right fist raised to knock on her door sill.

“Oh!, Good Morning, Professor!” 

“Miss Granger. I… I wanted to come make my presence known before the alley fills with patrons.”

Confidence felt like warm honey flowing through her veins. “Please, come in! I was actually about to step over to your shop to welcome you.”

Snape’s eyes softened and an actual grin broke his visage. He glanced at the basket and took a deep breath. “Might I be bold enough to assume you were bringing those with you?”

Hermione actually giggled. “Yes! I was going to leave these scones with you as a ‘Welcome to the Neighborhood’ gift myself!” She pulled back the light towel to reveal perfectly shaped pastries dotted with cranberries and blueberries. “Come with me to my office, Prof…”

“Severus.”

“Come with me to my office, Severus, and we’ll enjoy one with tea.”  
“That would be my pleasure.”

_8:07am_

“Oh, Fuck! Granger, you have a pot of honey between your thighs. If I had known this years ago, I would have taken you in the dungeon every goddamn night!”

“Mmmm. Get to work there, Mister. No talk and keep eating.” Hermione was strewn on her office desk, propped up on her elbows, knees bent and fixed in place with her boot heels hooked on the edge.

It happened so quickly. All it took was one crumb of scone to fall to the valley of her décolletage and Snape had pounced on her like a cat.

“Shit, Severus, I’ve been imagining this all week. Your tongue, arghh, yeah, oh fuck, yeah, your tongue, I used to hate it but… “

Severus looked up from between her thighs, a smirk on his face glistening with juice. “I know, my sweet. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you tarting up your sidewalk. Was that show just for me?”

“Yes, yes, oh god, don’t stop, yes! I’ve been wanting your attention since fifth year, you prick. Couldn’t you tell?’

After one last, long, broad swipe of his tongue, Severus pushed back and stood up. “Tell me, are you ready, my sweet? Call me a prick again and I’ll prove you right.”

“Prick!” Her panting had become overwhelming. She centered her thoughts and looked him in the eyes. With a lowered voice and glare Hermione commanded, “Give it to me, Severus. I want to see if my imagination is correct.”

He spelled his trousers open and out sprung what was easily six inches of thick purple girth wih a brilliant pink head. Severus gripped his cock and stood between her legs. “Take a good look, Granger. If you’re not a good girl, I might not let you see it again.”

Hermione looked. She breathed in deeply through her open mouth, exhaled and said “Shit—go slow at first. It’s been too long for me and never that thick.”

“My pleasure, your highness.” Severus bent over and guided himself to her entrance. He pushed in slowly savoring the tightness of her body and wet warmth contained inside.

“Are you ready? I can make this hard and rough if you wish. Slow and smooth isn’t my style and I won’t last.”

“Go for it, Snape. Give me your worst.”

Severus grabbed a knee in each hand and bent her legs forward towards her torso. He looked to where they were joined and almost lost it.

“Fuck me, Hermione. If you could only see your sweet pussy stretch for me. Merlin, how did I get so goddamn lucky this morning?”

Hermione kept her mouth shut on that one.

He went to work. “Hang on, my little tart. We’re going for a ride on daddy’s Cleansweep.”

Hips thrust and groans were moaned. “Sweet Circe, Severus! You’re an expert at everything! Oh, yeah, hard, hard, hard… “

“Master Spy, Master Bate, Master, you can call me whatever Master you want, as long as you let me keep this tight cum box. Buggering shite, woman! You’re as wet… aw fuck, that’s it. Pull out those sweet tits for me, Granger. Do it for daddy.”

Hermione ripped her bodice and quickly released her breasts. They couldn’t help but bounce about on their own accord as she was pummeled from below.

“Damn, those are some pretty buds. Pinch them, yessss, just like that.” He gave her ten seconds to pleasure herself then reached up to take over duties.

Her mouth said ‘ouch’ but her walls clenched ‘yes’ as he pinched and pulled at her tits. “Do you like this? Are you a nasty little slut who likes the neighbors to come by and enjoy a slap and tickle?”

“No! Not neighbors!”

“No? All right, than I shall cease.”

“Goddamnit you better not! Keep that cock going, Mister. Don’t you dare stop!”

Severus pounded her quim. The look on his face betrayed his ability to hold out much longer.

“Your little fur box is so fucking tight! I’m trying, Hermione, I’m trying, but… “

Hermione cheered him on. “Come on, daddy! Fuck me hard! Come in my cunt, baby, come for me!”

Severus looked down at her eyes and tucked in his chin. He let out a small growl and thrust hard one last time. His eyes softened and a smile broke out on his war hardened face.

_8:50am_

Hermione closed the door after letting Severus out. She watched from the window as he crossed the Alley, basket in hand. Imagining him jumping up and clicking his heels brought a grin to her face.

_What a way to start the week!_ Thoughts trickled through her head.

_Felix_ had done its job. During a few minutes of post-coital tenderness Severus had admitted his delight when he discovered she owned Flourish and Blotts. He had been following her progress since the war’s end and confessed he had become smitten a few years ago. He just never knew the right way to approach her, and if he did, he had been terrified of rejection.

A lunch invitation and tour of the new apothecary had been extended, along with dinner in the evening. _Felix_ told her that after this morning, there was no place to go but up with Severus.

The End.


End file.
